


Good Samaritan

by Brenda



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky's A True Hero, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Drunken Flirting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern Bucky Barnes, Steve Has No Inner Voice, Steve's A Cheap Drunk, Suit Kink, The Author Regrets Nothing, Thor's Mead Is Lethal, Unrepentant Fluff, and no chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 22:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12944949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/pseuds/Brenda
Summary: Invitingly pink, full lips curved up into a small smile as the arms around him tightened just a fraction.  "Having a good night?""I am now," Steve said, mesmerized by the way the light glinted off impossibly long eyelashes.Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes fluff based onthis Buzzfeed story, because someone had to do it. :D





	Good Samaritan

**Author's Note:**

> A very very belated birthday gift for Viper

Steve hadn't been a USO showgirl for a very long time, but the muscle memory on how to conduct himself at a fundraiser came back easily. There was a certain art to circumnavigating the room, to making small talk while still maintaining a polite aura of distance, of smiling so that no one suspected it never reached the eyes. It wasn't a skill Steve ever thought he'd be good at – he was far too impatient and far too easily riled – but Howard Stark had shown him a few tricks to make the whole ordeal easier to bear.

Having friends to commiserate with was also a bonus. 

Sam clapped him on the shoulder, and took a noisy slurp from his Manhattan. "Great turnout, huh?" he said, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the crowd and the thumping music piping in through the overhead speakers.

"Sure," Steve agreed. It felt like his face was about to crack from so much fake-smiling. "Great."

"Man, you look like someone's ready to send you to the gallows."

"Yeah, well, it's been a long few days." Long few weeks, long few months...fuck, a long life, if Steve was honest with himself. Sometimes he thought the only time he'd ever truly rested had been the seventy years he spent frozen on the Valkyrie; which, the less he dwelled on that, the better. 

"Ah, Steve, there you are," Thor said, thrusting a cup into Steve's hand as he walked up to them. Like Steve and Sam, he was impeccably turned out in a bespoke three-piece suit that hugged every inch of his impressive frame. "I've been looking for you for twenty minutes."

"What's this?" Steve asked, sniffing the contents of the cup. Didn't smell like much of anything – there was a faint whiff of honeysuckle, but that was about it.

"Mjöð. It's similar to the mead of your realm, but..." Thor grinned, showing off blindingly white teeth "...much stronger."

"You know I can't get drunk, right?" Steve said, but obligingly took a sip. It went down smooth, and left an effervescent tingle in the back of his throat. 

Thor patted his back, familiar and friendly. "I think you might find yourself pleasantly surprised."

"And hey, at least this'll give you something to have in your hand when making the rounds," Sam said, which was an excellent point.

"Speaking of, I should probably get back to it," Steve grimaced, even though he wanted nothing more than to head back to his brownstone in Brooklyn and put on something far more comfortable, and maybe catch up on The Great Bake-Off. Combat, he could handle. Give him a fight, and he was in his element. But pretending to care about the lives of the bored and rich just to beg for money for sick children made his stomach churn.

Sam saluted their small group with his drink. "A hero's work is never done.".

Thor harrumphed, but shrugged. "I must confess I don't understand this system you have of asking people to give what should already be free and readily available. On Asgard, we're taught that it's the responsibility of every citizen to care for those less fortunate." 

"Spoken like a true Communist," Nat replied, walking up to join them. Her floor-length black gown sparkled like diamonds under the lights. "But, sadly, that's not how things work here on Earth."

Sam sighed, low and long-suffering. "Ain't that the truth. Here, people only want to give you money when they think you don't need it."

"Well, hopefully we can start to change that," Steve said, and took another sip, then held up his glass. "Thanks for the drink, Thor. I appreciate it."

Thor pulled out a small flask and topped him off. "Just remember to drink slowly. You may be enhanced, but you are still not Asgardian. Mjöð may go down smooth, but it's a deceptive smoothness."

"I'll try to remember," Steve replied. Privately, he thought the evening would fly by a lot faster if he was sauced for it.

"Alright, let's get our networking on before Pepper starts giving us the evil eye," Sam said, eyeing the crowd with barely concealed distaste.

"She won't be the only one," Nat replied, and ushered them out to the floor to see and be seen. 

***

Thor, Steve discovered, was right – his mead did not fuck around. It may not have tasted like much of anything, but two hours later, the ballroom was fuzzy around the edges, like a soft-focus lens gone awry. Colors blurred together in a giant kaleidoscope; every time Steve blinked, tiny starbursts appeared behind his eyelids. He'd lost Sam and Thor over an hour ago...somewhere, Steve honestly had no idea where...but they were both fine, probably flirting up a storm with everyone with a pulse, and charming rich people out of their money. Which was what they were there to do, after all, glad-hand and raise funds for a worthwhile charity.

But Steve was...done. With all of it. The small talk and the glad-handing and the...the _everything_. What he truly craved right now was some fresh air. Just a moment of silence, away from the crowds and demands on his time, from trying to stretch his mouth into his Captain America smile yet again. He hadn't been drunk or even tipsy in over seventy years – he wanted to appreciate the moment before it faded.

The side stairs leading outside beckoned, and Steve bounded down them with his usual abandon...and the world abruptly shifted as he tripped on the bottom stair, the ground rising to meet him – 

Until he was caught around the waist and pulled against a solid chest.

Steve felt like he was in one of the movies he used to watch back when he'd been young – like Jean Harlow or Myrna Loy – cradled in supple, yet strong arms. "Uh," he said, eloquently, and kept right on staring at his rescuer, stunned into absolute silence. The most beautiful person he'd laid eyes on in this century was staring down at him with concern and amusement, and was effortlessly holding Steve up like he weighed nothing. 

Invitingly pink, full lips curved up into a small smile as the arms around him tightened just a fraction. "Having a good night?"

"I am now," Steve said, mesmerized by the way the light glinted off impossibly long eyelashes. 

His Good Samaritan was pretty. Like, straight up breathtakingly _wow_ – with soulful, sea-storm eyes and a stubbled jawline and highly kissable lips. He was, honest-to-God, so pretty Steve was having trouble believing his own eyes.

"Thank you," Good Samaritan said, amused.

"Wait, did I...just say that out loud?" Steve asked, with a sinking feeling in his gut. He'd never learned to handle alcohol with any grace. Before the serum, one drink could have put him down for the count, and after, well, what would have been the point of trying?

Those pretty, pretty eyes crinkled at the corners when Good Samaritan smiled again. "Yeah, you did."

 _Shit_.

"Still doing it."

 _Fuck_. Good Samaritan was laughing at him. Well, not actually _laughing_ laughing – more like a small, fond, and highly attractive chuckle – but Steve knew. He knew what it meant when a pretty person laughed at you. God knew he'd encountered it enough back in his younger days. He'd already ruined his chances, and they'd just met. Which was seriously just his luck. 

"I'm sorry," he offered, sheepish and sad. "I think I might be...drunk."

Good Samaritan chuckled again, the sound reverberating all through Steve's body. "I didn't think Captain America could get drunk."

"Asgardian mead. From Thor," Steve amended, somewhat pointlessly. "I mean, of course it's from Thor, who else would...like...have Asgardian mead." He was still being held in the other man's arms. This should feel weird, right? Steve should feel weird. But nope, he just felt awesome.

He also couldn't stop staring. He hadn't been this instantly smitten since Peggy Carter had socked Hodges right in the kisser way back in Basic at Camp Lehigh.

"Wow, I'm flattered." Good Samaritan's eyes flashed. "Being compared to the great Peggy Carter is quite the accomplishment."

"I said that out loud too?"

"Fraid so," Good Samaritan replied, and – in a true tragedy of epic proportions – helped Steve back to his feet. "But it's kinda cute."

"Cute?" Steve repeated, dumbly. "You think I'm...?"

"Yeah, but don't worry, I won't let it get out – I know Captain America has a rep to protect."

Yeah, Steve was still being teased, alright. But he didn't mind. In fact, he thought he'd be okay with being teased like this, all gentle and sweet, for the rest of the night or week or year. "It's Steve. Steve Rogers."

Those beautiful eyes softened on the next smile. "Nice to meet you, Steve Rogers. I'm James Barnes."

Even his name sounded like something out of a movie from Steve's childhood. Strong and masculine and yet relatable. "Nice to meet you, James –"

"– But my friends call me Bucky."

"Oh, okay." Did that mean he and James – _Bucky_ – were friends now?

"Well, that's the idea," Bucky replied, leaning in a little like he was imparting a secret.

He was still doing it? "Fuck, I...you know what, I'm just gonna – what's the...Wanda keeps telling me – own it, yes." Steve nodded, pleased with himself that he'd remembered. "I'm owning that I have no inner monologue when I'm...not sober. Which I'd forgotten. That I did that. Since I haven't been able to get drunk since 1942."

"Don't worry about it," Bucky said, tilting his head to the side and studying Steve like he thought Steve was some exotic creature. Bucky's suit was all black, severely cut, but he wore it with an elegance that Steve couldn't have pulled off if he'd had another century of practice. "Like I said, it's cute."

There was that word again. Cute. Which...it wasn't a word Steve associated with himself. He'd been called a lot of things over his life – stubborn, reckless, hot-headed, stuffy (mostly by Tony), self-serious (also by Tony), steadfast, loyal – but cute was a new one. 

"That's not...most people think I'm...out of touch," Steve said, with a small shrug. "Boring gets thrown around a lot, too."

"Maybe they just haven't bothered to try talking to you," Bucky replied, still smiling at Steve all soft and fond, like he was amused by everything Steve was saying. Like he was entertained by Steve, which was ridiculous, because Steve wasn't entertaining in the slightest. Ask anyone from this century or the last one. "I'm not bored at all."

"Get to know me better, you'll find out the truth."

"Okay," Bucky easily agreed, with a quick wink that was both friendly and flirtatious. "Sounds like a plan."

Plans were...good. Right? This was good? And, hey, Steve was _great_ with plans. Had an entire song dedicated to his prowess with them and everything.

"So, can I call you an Uber? A cab? You didn't drive, did you? I don't think it'd be good publicity for an Avenger to get arrested for a DUI," Bucky said, still full of concern and good-person-ness, and all of the pretty ever.

"What? No, I came with...um, my friends? They're...still pressing the flesh, so to speak." Steve waved vaguely in the direction the stairs and the banquet hall at the top, where the fundraiser-party-thing still undoubtedly going on in full swing. "I just...needed some air. Too many people."

Bucky nodded, commiserate. "Yeah, this isn't really my scene, either. I'm just here to show support for the kids."

"Same here. I mean, on both counts." Steve leaned against the wall; his head was finally clearing ever-so-slightly. Whatever had been in Thor's mead, it packed one helluva punch. "So, what do you do...I mean, are you, um, with the foundation or –?"

"Nah, nothing that fancy." Bucky leaned against the wall next to Steve, close enough that their shoulders were brushing. "I mean, I've worked with them from time to time, but not _for_ them. I head up an outreach program that pairs recovering vets with sick kids – kinda like a buddy system, almost – and the foundation's given us money in the past, so I thought I'd drop by and show my support."

"Your program sounds amazing." Like something he'd like to contribute to or bring attention to, if he could. And not just because it might give him the opportunity to see Bucky again.

"Thanks," Bucky said, with a quick smile. "I, uh, got the idea when I was recovering from my own injuries. Usedta wander over to the pediatric wing after my physical therapy and read to the kids, play with 'em, y'know, try to...do something to take their minds off things? Wound up helping me take my mind off things, too."

"You're a vet?" The fresh air was doing wonders for his head. Either that or now he was just intoxicated by Bucky's presence.

"Three tours in Afghanistan and the scars to prove it," Bucky said, with a self-deprecating shrug. "Joined up for the GI Bill, re-upped because, well..."

"You felt like you were part of something bigger than yourself," Steve finished softly. God knew he could sympathize.

"Yeah." Bucky nudged Steve's shoulder. "I guess you'd know something about that."

"A little bit." He still missed his old unit – missed that shorthand and camaraderie – even though he had a great relationship with his fellow Avengers. But it wasn't the same.

"Anyway, this is a pretty heavy conversation for a party."

"I don't mind." It was the most engaged Steve had been all night. He wanted to know everything there was about James 'Bucky' Barnes, every little detail that made up his life. "And, uh, look, about...earlier...I gotta apologize, that was just –"

"No, it's fine. You were fine." Bucky waved him off. "You swooning in my arms like that made me feel a little bit like William Powell or Cary Grant."

"Really?" Steve let out a surprised laugh. "'Cause I totally felt like Jean Harlow." Bucky was not only beautiful and funny and someone who'd dedicated his life to helping other people, but he also knew about William Powell and Cary Grant? Maybe Steve really had fallen and hit his head, because there was no way Bucky could be real. 

Bucky gave him a speculative look. "Now, see, I would've pegged you as a Claudette Colbert. Feisty and independent and full of surprises and hidden depths."

"You think... _me_?" Steve pointed at himself. "Full of surprises?" He thought he'd been sobering up, but maybe he was drunker than he thought.

"Yeah, you." Bucky turned slightly so he was more fully facing Steve. "What, you thought I stayed out here with you because I was concerned for your health? I mean, I was, but also because I wanted to keep talking to you."

"To me?" Yeah, sure, Steve knew what he looked like now – and he'd had his fair share of superficial relationships since he'd gotten the serum – but he could count the number of people who'd bothered to get to know the real him on one hand and have fingers left over. 

"Yeah," Bucky repeated, " _you_." He tapped a finger over Steve's heart. "I mean, the only disappointing thing about you is that I can't kiss you like I want."

"Why not?" Steve asked, then, belatedly: "Wait, you want to – _what_?"

Now it was Bucky's turn to blush. "Sorry, that was – I mean, I know you came out in support of LGBTQ rights a couple of years ago, but that doesn't mean –"

"I like guys. And girls. I mean, I like...both," Steve clarified, with a self-conscious wince. "I, uh, bisexual? That's the word, right? That's me. I'm...it." Maybe if he punched the wall enough times, he could create a hole big enough to crawl into. He was sure he had to be beet-red and splotchy, the way he always got when he was embarrassed. 

"Me too," Bucky replied, lifting his finger to skim it along Steve's jaw. "And that's...I mean, I'm thrilled that I've got a shot now, don't get me wrong, but you've also been drinking, and I don't wanna take advantage –"

"I wish you would," Steve blurted out. "I mean, I'm not. Drunk. I mean, I was, but I, uh, burn through calories? Really fast? Which includes alcohol? So, mostly sober?"

"You sure?"

Steve thought about the best way to convince Bucky that he really was of sound mind (well, as sound as he ever got), but he'd always been a man of action. He pushed himself off the wall and into Bucky's space, and leaned in to press their lips together. Kept it as light as he could, considering the heat licking along his spine, and his hands firmly at his sides, so Bucky wouldn't feel coerced in any way. 

Bucky opened his mouth in a soft 'o' of surprise, but recovered almost immediately. His lips were dry, but felt like heaven, and when he flicked his tongue out to lick along Steve's bottom lip, Steve just moaned and let Bucky pull him in even closer. Each kiss lasted longer and longer, until they all blended together into one seamless whole.

Bucky's cheeks were flushed the same shade as his lips when they pulled apart. "Gorgeous, funny, and a good kisser," he remarked on a breathless laugh. "Why's no one snatched you up already?"

Steve finally allowed himself to run an unsteady hand along Bucky's arm, testing the strength under the rich fabric of his jacket. "Maybe I was just waiting for the right partner."

" _And_ you've got lines, I'm impressed." Bucky smiled, carrying it into the next kiss, then another and another, each one more potent than the last. Steve's head was swimming like earlier, but this time, it was all due to Bucky's clever mouth.

"I should probably let you get back inside, huh?" Bucky asked, a little forlorn, the next time they parted.

"Yeah." Steve reluctantly drew out the word; his lips were buzzing, his body alight. The only thing he wanted was to close the distance between them again, but he didn't want to seem pushy. "Nat's probably already sending out a search party."

"So...would it be okay if I got your number?"

"Yeah, are you kidding?" Steve wasn't leaving without a way to contact Bucky later. "You, um, you wanna maybe grab dinner tomorrow? Or, it doesn't have to be tomorrow, I'm not trying to be – I mean, the day after is good, we –"

"Tomorrow's fine." Bucky brushed another kiss to Steve's lips, then across both eyelids, the caresses butterfly-soft. "And dinner's more than fine. You mind if I pick the place?"

Steve mutely shook his head. At this point, he'd probably follow Bucky wherever he wanted to go, no questions asked.

"There's this great little Cuban place way uptown in the Heights – and I know no one likes to go above 85th, but I promise, it's worth it."

"I trust you." Steve didn't mind the Heights – hell, he wouldn't mind going up to Inwood, if Bucky was waiting for him at the end. Plus, heading uptown meant he'd get to take the A train, and that was always an entertaining ride, if only for the people watching.

"Okay, yeah, um." Bucky fished his phone out of his inside jacket pocket and unlocked it, then thrust it at Steve. "Just...if you want –"

Steve couldn't type his name and number into Bucky's contacts fast enough. When Bucky took it back, his fingers flew across the screen for a minute, then Steve felt a buzzing from his own phone. "Your number, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah." Bucky shifted closer yet again, brushed his fingers alongside Steve's. "Can I walk you back inside?"

"That'd be...yes. Please," Steve added, unable to resist kissing Bucky one more time. "Thanks for rescuing me earlier."

Bucky just grinned. "All in a day's work."

"My own personal hero," Steve said, swinging their hands a little as they walked towards the stairs.

Bucky glanced at Steve from under partially lowered lashes. "I like the sound of that." 

"Yeah," Steve replied, certain his smile could probably be seen from space. "Me too."

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Steph](https://stephrc79.tumblr.com/) for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are on me.
> 
> You can now find me on [Tumblr](https://brendaonao3.tumblr.com/). :)


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